his valet, he always promptly made his appearance, as though he had sprung out of the earth, and with a scrape of his heels, his hands behind his back, would stand before his master, a surly, as it were angry, but devoted servant!
Alexey Sergeitch was liberal beyond his means; but he did not like to be called 'benefactor.' 'Benefactor to you, indeed, sir! . . . I'm doing myself a benefit, and not you, sir!' (when he was angry or indignant, he always addressed people with greater formality). 'Give to a beggar once,' he used to say, 'and give him twice, and three times. . . And—if he should come a fourth time, give to him still—only then you might say too: "It's time, my good man, you found work for something else, not only for your mouth."' 'But, uncle,' one asked, sometimes, 'suppose even after that the beggar came again, a fifth time?' 'Oh, well, give again the fifth time.' He used to have the sick, who came to him for aid, treated at his expense, though he had no faith in doctors himself, and never sent for them. 'My mother,' he declared, 'used to cure illnesses of all sorts with oil and salt—she gave it internally, and rubbed it on too—it always answered splendidly. And who was my mother? She was born in the days of Peter the Great—only fancy that!'
Alexey Sergeitch was a Russian in everything; he liked none but Russian dishes, he
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